


traces of you

by fruti2flutie



Series: The Boyz High School AU [3]
Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Humor, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 00:13:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14031942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruti2flutie/pseuds/fruti2flutie
Summary: Hyunjae finds his way back to someone he’s been missing for a very long time.





	traces of you

**Author's Note:**

> -nearly 11k? excuse me?  
> -i'm still not sure how i feel about this so *alarm emoji* beware of bullshit *alarm emoji*  
> -title taken from ["walkin' in time" by the boyz](https://youtu.be/Xi349ysBaW8)  
> -forgive any mistakes! edited myself so i'll fix it myself eventually  
> -yeehaw

“Breaking news!” Hyunjae shouts, dramatically throwing the classroom door open. He levels his voice into a serious tone and continues, pen held under his chin like a microphone, “This just in: Moon Hyungseo is a giant loser.”

His boisterous entrance gets a laugh out of Chanhee and Changmin. Sangyeon gives him that exasperated half-sigh, half-smile. Kevin, formally known as Moon Hyungseo, as expected, is unfazed.

“Nice to see you, too, Hyunjae hyung,” he says. “What’s so urgent that you’re interrupting our very important meeting?”

“That sounds so fake and you know it,” Hyunjae scoffs. The student council holds meetings every week after school, but unless they have the club leaders there for discussion, too, it’s basically just an excuse for the four to order pizza and chicken. Younghoon complains about it often, mainly because Changmin kicks him out when he tries to join.

“Okay, so we’re taking a tiny food break.”

“Have a drumstick,” Chanhee offers. Changmin lifts the half-full liter of Sprite in the air, too.

“As much as I’d love to, I come here today with a purpose.” Hyunjae points his pen at Sangyeon. “I need to borrow the president. Important journalism club matters.”

“That sounds so fake and you know it,” Kevin parrots back as he sips from his lemonade. Hyunjae glares at him.

“I’ll be right out,” Sangyeon says, brushing the crumbs off his hands. “Kevin, you’re in charge while I’m gone. Don’t eat all the pizza.” Sticking his tongue at Hyunjae, Kevin gives Sangyeon a thumbs-up.

Hyunjae doesn’t move very far from the classroom. He stands outside the door, his back against the wall, spinning his notepad on the tip of his finger. Sangyeon crosses his arms, not impressed, and asks, “Why can’t you two get along?”

“Who?” Hyunjae lets his notepad fall into his hands. Sangyeon raises an eyebrow. “Oh, you mean me and Kevin? I don’t know what you mean. We get along like two peas in a pod. Fried and seasoned chicken. Peanut and butter.”

“I really have no clue whether you’re telling the truth,” Sangyeon mutters. Hyunjae grins.

“That’s beside the point,” Hyunjae says. “Anyway, I need a favor.”

Sangyeon looks skeptically at him. “What kind of favor?” He scowls. “Hyunjae, I’m sorry, but I can’t bring you back to the zoo. We’ve been over this.”

“Hey, _those_ kindergarteners started it! And it’s not my fault that the railings for the alpaca exhibit were so low.” Hyunjae clears his throat, waving a hand. “ _Anyway_ , my favor has nothing to do with that.”

“So then what?”

“I need help coming up with another segment for the newspaper,” Hyunjae explains. “Ms. Park said that I should try to be more creative for December’s editions. The best I have in mind is Juyeon’s cooking column, but I would have to wait until basketball season is over for him to work on that.”

Sangyeon frowns. “Why are you asking me of all people? I’m flattered, but still.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, hyung. You’re not the first person I asked.” Hyunjae sighs. “Younghoon told me to write about different breeds of dogs. Haknyeon told me to do a travel article. Et cetera, et cetera, so on and so forth.”

“Those sound promising,” Sangyeon says.

“Logically, sure. But do you really think it’ll keep kids’ attention for multiple weeks at a time? Once you know about a beagle, you basically know about the poodle, too. As for traveling, I don’t want it to sound like an advertisement. I’m not that tacky.”

“I see.” Sangyeon takes a few seconds, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and then hits the palm of his hand with his fist. “I’ve got it.”

Ears perked, Hyunjae readies his pen. “I’m listening.”

“Student interviews!”

Hyunjae’s face contorts into a grimace. “That’s... incredibly boring, hyung. There was barely any build-up.”

Sangyeon jabs Hyunjae’s chest and says, “Hey, hear me out. It’s good! Interviews—” (The pause is, indeed, for theatrics and a pinch too long for Hyunjae’s taste) “—for students who’ve grown up overseas. Let them tell their own stories of what they experienced, with a mix of your own questions. Then, you can put your journalistic twist on the answers so it’s newsworthy.”

“That,” Hyunjae starts, “is actually not half bad.” He taps his pen on his cheek, humming. “I would need a list of students who’ve lived overseas.”

“Come back in and ask Kevin,” Sangyeon says. “He may be able to help.”

“Are you insinuating the foreign kids all know one another? That’s a version of stereotyping.”

“Hey, doesn’t hurt to try,” Sangyeon says, heading back into the classroom. Hyunjae mocks the remark under his breath and follows after him.

Back in the classroom, the other members of the council are still eating. Kevin is picking up a slice of Hawaiian pizza; Changmin and Chanhee are watching a cute animal video off the former’s laptop. Sangyeon comes behind them and pauses it, making the three shriek and groan.

“Back to business,” Sangyeon says sternly, pointing to the papers at each of their desks. Changmin pouts but obediently cracks open a folder.

“Moon Kevin,” Hyunjae calls. Kevin looks up from his pizza, stopping midchew. “Unfortunately, I need your assistance.”

Kevin glances at Hyunjae, then at Sangyeon, then at Hyunjae again. “We’re still having our meeting.”

Hyunjae purses his lips and pulls out a chair. “I _guess_ I’ll wait.” He collapses onto the desk, buzzing his lips. “Don’t mind me. Resume your activities. Pretend I’m a ghost.”

Kevin stares at him.

“Boo,” Hyunjae adds, for effect. Chanhee snorts, hiding his smile with his hand.

The meeting continues. Hyunjae isn’t one to enjoy sit-ins, but he has his notepad to occupy himself, jotting down potential questions for his interviews. (He also snags the box with leftover chicken wings, unable to be helped by the council.) Sangyeon runs the meeting, asks the other members what’s on the schedule and what needs to be done. Changmin types the meeting minutes on his laptop, piping up every so often to make a comment about bookkeeping. Occasionally Kevin makes a bad joke, which makes Hyunjae snicker.

When the meeting ends and everything is cleaned, all the members of the student council leave the school save for Kevin. Hyunjae stays behind, too, to talk with him about Sangyeon’s idea. He’d written down the outline of how to go about it, with an estimated time frame to do all the interviews and the approximate amount of students needed.

“So,” Hyunjae says, twirling his pen. “Any thoughts? Feel free to shoot me down. I won’t bite.”

“I can help you,” Kevin declares. He flashes Hyunjae a smile. “It sounds fun! Tell me what you need and how you want to get it done. I’ll do my best to lend a hand.”

Hyunjae beams. “You’re the bomb, man.”

“I try.” Kevin bumps Hyunjae’s fist, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Text me whenever you’re ready. I’m heading home to get some homework done.”

“Mm-hm.” Hyunjae holds the entrance door open for Kevin. “See you around.” Kevin waves, shuffling backwards, and goes on his way.

Hyunjae grins to himself. This is fun. Now, onto the technicalities and work-up. His grin slips. Well, fun while it lasted.

——

Journalism club meets every Tuesday and Thursday. There are six others in the club aside from Hyunjae: Juyeon, Siyeon, Woojin, Jimin, and Yoojung. Juyeon, Siyeon, and Hyunjae are columnists; Jimin and Woojin are editors; Yoojung does graphic design; and Younghoon takes photos. (Technically, Younghoon isn’t _in_ the journalism club, but his photos are used so often that he’s an honorary member.)

Hyunjae, when Juyeon is away for basketball, is unofficially the club leader. The younger kids listen to him, mostly, and they get their work done. The club is in charge of producing the weekly school newspaper, where all sorts of topics of interest are written about. It depends on what students want to read about, and also what faculty will allow them to post.

It’s a rare occurrence for all the members to be in the designated meeting classroom at once. Usually, “meetings” get done through the journalism club group chat — renamed _newsflash, bitch_ by Jimin — so there’s no need to show up for the official meeting after school. The only member who isn’t in more than one extracurricular activity is Hyunjae (because he thinks team sports are a sham and daily training is too tiring) so he comes to the weekly meetings regardless to get formatting done.

That’s how it is today, on a chilly Tuesday afternoon, Hyunjae fixing the order of interview subjects for next week’s column. Younghoon is with him, bored out of his mind, fiddling with the settings of his DSLR. Hyunjae’s Spotify playlist titled _getting shit done_ is playing from his laptop to encourage him to get shit done.

“You’re taking to this arrangement awfully well,” Younghoon proclaims, breaking Hyunjae’s concentration and making him jolt.

“What?”

“You and Kevin, working together for the interview junk.”

“Oh.” The two juniors have collaborated for all aspects of the interviews: getting a list of students from overseas, compiling sample questions, and telling Younghoon what kind of photos should accompany the segment. There haven’t been any problems with the arrangement, which is why Younghoon’s comment makes Hyunjae frown. “This is a trend. Why does everyone think Kevin and I don’t get along?”

“You never deny it,” Younghoon says. Hyunjae frowns harder. “You know what I’m talking about. When people ask about how you are with Kevin. You never say you’re _not_ on bad terms.”

Hyunjae huffs, “My personal matters are not the business of anyone.”

“You wanted to write an exposé on Jacob and Sangyeon’s date habits last month.”

“ _My_ personal matters are not the business of anyone.” Hyunjae clears his throat. “Others, when necessary, are different. Everyone wants to know about The School’s Cutest Couple™ — trademark by journalism club’s very own Lee Hyunjae.”

Younghoon rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Double standard.”

“That’s just how the cookie crumbles. I don’t make the rules.” Hyunjae twirls his pen. “Any luck with your portrait shots? You’re the best photographer we have.”

“I’m the only photographer you have,” Younghoon says, deadpan.

“Well, nonetheless, it’s flattery. Take what you can get. I don’t give it out often.”

Ignoring Hyunjae’s backhanded compliment, Younghoon sighs, “I’m doing okay.” He browses through pictures, deleting the ones he isn’t satisfied with. At one particular snapshot he stops and holds out his camera, impressed.

“Y’know, objectively speaking, Kevin is really photogenic.” Younghoon waves Hyunjae over. “Come look.”

Hyunjae lifts his head up. He hasn’t been very productive the last few minutes so he rolls his chair to Younghoon’s table to take a peek. Younghoon shows him the camera screen, and he breaks out in a smile. “Heh. Kevin looks like a total nerd.”

Younghoon stares at Hyunjae, perplexed. “I think I know what nerds look like, and Kevin is definitely not one of them.”

“So what’s a nerd look like?”

“Jacob,” Younghoon answers, grin unapologetic. Hyunjae chortles. “He watches anime. I mean, same, but not as much as him.”

“Okay, I get it. Point taken.” Hyunjae rolls back to his desk. “Kevin cries at Disney movies. I think that makes him pretty nerdy, too.”

Younghoon blinks. “Does he? Seriously? How would you know?”

After a beat of silence only he notices, Hyunjae shrugs, remarks, “Just do,” and gets back to writing. Younghoon doesn’t ask for any more elaboration, so that’s the end of it.

——

In elementary school, when Hyunjae went by “Jaehyun” because that’s his real name and there was a time where he was unaware of the plethora of Jaehyuns in the district, Hyunjae liked to ramble. These days he’s more into writing, but as a toddler he’d love to talk about his favorite games and toys and TV shows, anything he could muster a comment for. The other kids took to Hyunjae well, though they’d often leave him alone to avoid being pestered by his ceaseless chatterbox of a mouth.

Hyunjae liked to learn about things, too, so he’d take in as much information as possible to spew onto any unsuspecting bystander. Often, it got out of hand. Hyunjae was brazen, forward, defiant — still is, but to an extent. His dad had scolded him once for arguing with an old fruit vendor lady about the circumference of the world (“She keeps saying the earth is flat! That’s _wrong!_ ”).

When Kevin moved to town, Hyunjae saw a seizable opportunity to bestow his knowledge onto the younger boy, who knew next to nothing of the workings of Seoul. With kids fascinated by a _foreigner_ , Kevin was subject to all sorts of questions about his life back in Canada.

“Does it snow there all the time?”

“Do you have a pet moose?”

“Are there lots of donut shops?”

“Can you speak Korean?”

That last question was ultimately where curiosities transformed to ridicule. Kevin’s Korean wasn’t as fluid and natural as the other children. He’d grown up with two languages, picked up English better since he was surrounded with it, had Korean come in bits and pieces along the way. The kids knew of but weren’t kind to his struggles. It was easy to mock him, to forget he could understand that much.

This was when Hyunjae swooped in to the rescue. He voluntarily became a second set of ears for young Kevin, a lost sheep in the herd, as well as an unspoken protector. He couldn’t stand idly by and watch the poor kid get pushed around for no good reason. Hyunjae’s English was practically nonexistent, but his ability to accurately explain concepts and phrases in basic Korean made up for it. Kevin was grateful, and Hyunjae was content.

After the first few weeks of friendship, it was nearly impossible to see one without the other. Hyunjae was always at Kevin’s house, playing with racecars or coloring books or swords, watching Disney movies on the DVD player, getting teased by Kevin’s older sister for his cheekiness. The same was true on the other side, though Hyunjae’s sister had a soft spot for Kevin and fed him sweets. They had adventures, brought upon by the boys’ inventive imaginations, and countless brushes with danger (mainly imaginary figments of dragons and trolls, but there was one time Hyunjae stopped Kevin from running into a pole). Kevin tailed Hyunjae around like a newborn duckling, following after the elder as he showed Kevin the secrets of the world.

As nice as it would have been for Hyunjae and Kevin to keep this dynamic, things inevitably changed as they grew out of their youth. Once Kevin was fully adjusted to Korean, kids stopped poking fun at him. They got to know Kevin, all his quirks and idiosyncrasies, and were finally able to see his kindness, his selflessness, his heart of gold. He was amiable with any and everyone, and the other kids flocked to him like moths to the first strike of a match.

Kevin drifted out of reach, out of orbit, and Hyunjae could only watch as he was left behind.

Hyunjae was proud of him, really, and didn’t feel any animosity towards the turnout. It was only natural. Kids grow into teens, who grow into adults, who grow into wrinkly old bags, who can then yell at the rowdy youngsters loitering in their yard for stepping on the petunias.

It’s a cycle: growing up and moving on. That’s just how it is, the cynic inside him says.

In the awkward middle school years, Hyunjae found friends who kept close. Juyeon, for example, usurped the title of “best friend” after the unspeakable fire alarm incident of seventh grade. Juyeon was the smartest kid in class, albeit without the common sense of a typical prepubescent teen. Hyunjae complemented that aspect of him well, who was a known trickster that could get away with almost anything. There was also Sunwoo, a neighborhood kid he tutored for a summer, and Younghoon, his buddy from Intro to Photography class. There were— _are_ lots of friends in Hyunjae’s life who aren’t Kevin.

Kevin is still in his life, but now as a satellite that passes through Hyunjae’s sky whenever it so pleases. It’s often in the form of library meets, where Hyunjae is checking out a book and bantering with Kevin, or homework question texts, sent out in a flurry to the whole class the night before an assignment is due. It’s easy to tease and make jabs. Nothing too personal. Nothing too deep.

Hyunjae _knows_ past Kevin, knows _of_ present Kevin. There was no such thing as a “falling out,” per se. It was more of a falling across, falling away. Simply a falling.

They’re more than strangers but less than friends. They’re stuck in a limbo of _we get along well_ and _depends on who’s asking_ , because the story that Hyunjae isn’t prepared to write may be much more complex than he allows for anyone to know.

——

Currently inside Starbucks, Hyunjae is trying to decide if he wants to be productive like the good student he’s meant to be or slack off like the procrastinator he really is. His laptop is open in front of him, no windows or programs open yet; only the dark background of the northern lights are giving him solace, hues of green and blue and that cute little husky that sits in the bottom right hand corner.

On one hand, he can crack open the sociology study guide he downloaded yesterday and figure out what the hell he doesn’t know for Thursday’s test. On the _other_ hand, the internet is a wonderful place, chock full of mystery and wonder, a curious rabbit hole that could lead Hyunjae through all sorts of doors.

Decisions, decisions. It’s a coin toss.

Some time later Kevin finds Hyunjae, headphones plugged in, too absorbed with his laptop to notice his arrival.

Kevin gets Hyunjae’s attention by knocking on the table. “Hey there.” He taps the chair across from the other junior. “Do you mind if I join you?”

Hyunjae takes off his headphones and crosses his arms over his chest. “I do mind, in fact. Look at how concentrated I am, Kevin. I’m the epitome of focus. You’ll distract me with your... fluffy hair.”

Eyebrow raised, Kevin peers around to take a peek at Hyunjae’s laptop. As Hyunjae unsuccessfully covers the screen, he scoffs, “Liar! You’re watching The Simpsons!”

 _Caught._ “Okay, fine, so I lied.” Hyunjae nods to the chair. “You’re allowed to sit. Bask in my presence. Feel my suffering.”

Kevin happily sets his bag onto the chair and takes out his wallet. “Consolation coffee?” he offers.

“If you insist.”

“Do you have a preference? I’m thinking you’re an iced americano kind of guy.”

Hyunjae snorts, “Hate to break it to you, but you’re wrong. Caramel macchiato. Nice try, though.” He cocks his head to the side. “Why’d you guess iced americano?”

Kevin shrugs. “That’s my favorite.” He grins. “I’ll be right back. Grande is good?”

Nodding, Hyunjae adds, “Make sure Chanhee doesn’t spike my drink with cinnamon. And... ask for extra caramel drizzle.”

Kevin snaps his fingers. “Will do.”

It doesn’t take very long for Kevin to get the drinks. With Chanhee working the register today, he’s given the friends-and-family discount (with Chanhee threatening to charge more when Hyunjae calls him an albino coffee bean). Kevin gets himself an iced americano of the same size and places Hyunjae’s drink on the table.

“Thanks.” Hyunjae slurps from the straw, letting the saccharine sweetness of the caramel and whipped cream hit his taste buds. He sighs dreamily. “Ah, that hits the spot.”

“Are you gonna do homework now?” Kevin asks, taking out his binder and notebook.

Hyunjae smacks his lips together. He glances at Kevin’s plastic binder, the rainbow of color-coded tabs and motivational quotes covering the cover page, and huffs out a reluctant, “I _guess_.”

As Hyunjae finds the sociology study guide file, Kevin asks, “How are the interviews coming?”

“Honestly? Really good.” Hyunjae has only done three so far: journalism club’s Park Jimin, junior; art student Lee Daehwi, freshman; and chic gymnast Heo Hyunjoon, sophomore. Each has their own take on the overseas experience and the transfer back. Ms. Park wants the series to include at least four column-length articles, so Hyunjae was hoping to include two whole interviews in each edition. With Kevin helping him find potential students to interview, he has at least seven more possible subjects, including Kevin himself. Progress is definitely being made.

“Downside: I have come to learn I am absolutely terrible at English,” he says. “Woe is me, a native Korean.”

Kevin laughs, a breathy sound, which makes Hyunjae a tiny bit satisfied. “Sorry, that’s not funny, that’s just— That stinks.” He smiles. “It’s still fun, right? Got any fun stories to tell?”

“Disclose confidential information about my interview subjects? Why, I’d _love_ to.” Hyunjae folds his arms over the table, pointing the straw of his macchiato at Kevin. “But you told me to do homework.”

“I don’t recall telling you to _do_ anything.”

Hyunjae smiles. In the back of his mind, a little voice is saying, _I’ve missed this._ Out loud, more rationally, he starts, “That Hyunjoon kid basically has a holy shrine to BTS, with, like, nine lightsticks and thirty albums, can you imagine—”

——

At the end of the day, Hyunjae goes to his locker on the second floor to get his coat and physics textbook. He’s usually not in a rush to get home, letting the other excitable students trample one another out the front gate, so he takes his time gathering his items. When he’s done, he closes his locker and nearly has a heart attack from the unannounced appearance of a petite girl standing behind the door.

With a surprising amount of levelness to his voice, Hyunjae asks, “Can I help you?” It comes off harsher than he’d intended, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

“Are you friends with Kevin?”

Hyunjae blinks. “And might I ask why you need that information?” He’s beginning to recognize her — Hyeyeon, either in his literature or programming class. They’ve never really interacted before, but she seems smart. The sudden question makes him rethink that prejudgment, since most of his time around Kevin is spent teasing him.

“I was hoping you’d give him something for me,” she proclaims, hopeful. “I’ve seen you with him lots recently, so maybe you could—”

“Why can’t you do that yourself?” Hyunjae interrupts. Again, the tone of voice is off, but Hyeyeon doesn’t look frazzled. “I don’t like playing messenger for strangers.”

“It’s—” Hyeyeon rubs her arm. She looks dejected. “I guess you’re right.”

“Glad we got that settled.” Hyunjae tries to shoo the girl away. “Now, hurry along, miss. I’ve got places to be, time to kill, homework to procrastinate.” He readies himself to leave, but a voice calling his name down the hall stops him. “Well, speak of the devil.”

Kevin walks up to Hyunjae’s locker, grinning. “Hyunjae, I have to ask you a question.” He turns to Hyeyeon. “Did you want something from me? Sorry, I may have overheard a bit.”

“No, that’s totally fine! I was meaning to give you—” Hyeyeon reaches into her backpack and hands Kevin a pink goodie bag tied with a red ribbon, “—this. I’m in the baking club.”

“Yeah, I remember!” Kevin turns the bag over in his hands. “What is this?”

“We made white chocolate truffles yesterday, and there were some extras,” Hyeyeon replies. “So... um, I wanted to give them to you. As a thank you for helping out that time.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet,” Kevin says, touched. “Thank you so much!” He gives her a hug before she leaves, and Hyunjae says goodbye, too, because at the end of the day he’s a gentleman.

“You helped the baking club? With what?” Hyunjae asks, interest piqued. “This just in: _K-Chef Baking Cakes for Sugar-Deprived Freshmen._ I can see the headlines now.”

“You’re sort of right,” Kevin chuckles. “Back in October, there was that bake sale, remember?”

Hyunjae nods. The journalism club had a special edition of the school paper dedicated to Halloween. Hyunjae won the rock-paper-scissors game and got to write about the sweetness of the season. Interviewing members of the baking club and sampling their wares was an added bonus. “I ate, like, twelve eyeball cake pops. Plus a few chocolate spiders.” He licks his lips. “Oh, how I remember the taste in my sweet, sweet dreams.”

Kevin laughs. “I helped bake and decorate a lot of the goodies. Some of their members were out sick that week, so I offered to be an extra pair of hands.”

“You like to bake?”

“I like to cook,” Kevin proclaims, proud. “All sorts of things. I make a pretty mean salmon.”

“You can cook, sing, draw...” Hyunjae puts on his interviewer voice and holds his fist near Kevin’s mouth, mimicking the paparazzi. “How do you do it? It, as in _everything_? Is there something you _can’t_ do?”

Bashful, Kevin pushes Hyunjae’s hand away and says, “Stop it. You’re overhyping me.”

“Overhyping? Nonsense. And that’s not an answer,” Hyunjae points out. “You’re just a perfect guy, aren’t you?”

“No way.” Kevin hides his face. “I’m lousy at sports. That’s a lot of somethings rolled into one.” He scratches behind his neck. “I can’t be perfect.”

“I think you’re pretty close,” Hyunjae says, truthful.

Kevin is struck speechless, laughing timidly as Hyunjae slaps his back. The splash of color that dusts his cheeks stays apparent while they walk to the front gate, where they part ways to their respective homes. Just before separating, Hyunjae makes Kevin promise to cook him dinner one day, which they secure with interlocked pinkies. It’s childish, but Hyunjae thinks it’s more foolproof than paper.

Only after he’s halfway through his literature assignment, in the comfort of his living room, does Hyunjae realize that Kevin never asked him his question. It probably wasn’t even important.

——

By the time another week rolls around, Hyunjae has interviewed all but one of his subjects. Dozens of pages from his notepad are filled with Q&A. The amount of content he has is enough to write more than enough for the articles, but he wouldn’t feel right if he didn’t include the person who helped him through the process.

Hyunjae decides to conduct Kevin’s interview at Kevin’s house. Originally, they had planned to solely study physics. They’ve been spending a lot of time with one another, sitting in Starbucks or the library, studying or slacking. Both of them have a test soon so they _actually_ want to study this time, which is why they agreed upon a totally invested physics cram session. The interview itself shouldn’t take very long, so Hyunjae proposed getting it over with at the very beginning of their cram session. Kevin had no objections, so the plan was all set.

After the day’s classes end, Hyunjae meets Kevin at his locker and accompanies him home. He knows the directions to it, still, but the path is different than the one they’d trekked during elementary school. The walk Kevin shows him is longer, narrower, and more bustling. Hyunjae stands on the side closer to the street beside Kevin, keeping him away from traffic.

They pass by a karaoke joint. They pass by a stationary shop. They pass by a convenience store, and then take three steps back to go inside and buy ice cream. The temperature is dropping close to freezing, but the temptation of mint chocolate is just too strong.

Kevin’s house looks exactly the same compared to the last time Hyunjae saw it, years ago. A car in the driveway, pale green siding. The trim and windows are all white; there’s a plot of tulips struggling for life by the front porch. After unlocking the door, they step inside.

“Mom, I’m home!”

Kevin stares at Hyunjae and hits his shoulder, whispering, “Don’t call _my_ mom ‘Mom’.”

Hyunjae tilts his head innocently. “What’s wrong with that? It’s the polite, Korean way.”

“It’s still weird,” Kevin mutters. Hyunjae shrugs and toes off his shoes.

Kevin’s mother is in the kitchen. She’s scrolling through a webpage on her iPad, possibly a vacationing site, writing down small notes on a piece of paper next to it. When she sees the boys enter, she springs up and crosses the room. Her expression lights up as she addresses Hyunjae, looking at him head to toe.

“Is this Lee Jaehyun I’m seeing? Dear, it’s been so long!” she exclaims, patting down his arms. “It’s so nice seeing you again. You’ve grown so much. You’re so tall... and so handsome!”

Hyunjae lets out a laugh. “Mrs. Moon, you’re making me blush.”

“You’re a fine young man,” she praises, pinching Hyunjae’s cheek. It stings, but Hyunjae bears through the pain like a champ. “We miss having you around. You should stay for dinner, too!”

“I’d like that,” Hyunjae replies. He glances at Kevin, who’s uncharacteristically quiet, and nudges him to speak.

“Oh, um, yeah.” Kevin coughs. “We’ll be in my room if you need us. We’re working on homework and stuff.”

His mother nods her head and says, stern, “Leave the door half open.”

“ _Mom._ ” Kevin says this whiningly, and Hyunjae is fighting the mortified flush that creeps up his neck as he pretends not to have heard.

Kevin leads Hyunjae down the hall. “My room is upstairs,” he says.

“You act like I’ve never been here before,” Hyunjae scoffs.

“Well, it’s been a while.” Hyunjae can hear the pout on Kevin’s face as he mumbles, “You could’ve forgotten.”

“Psh. I have the memory of a rhino.”

“You mean an elephant,” Kevin corrects.

“Wow, Kevin. Haven’t even been in your house for five minutes and you’re already ruining my life.”

Kevin snorts. “Overdramatic.”

When they get to Kevin’s room, Hyunjae first notices the picture frames on the vanity and atop the dresser. There are a few family portraits, some shots of nature, and several photos of famous celebrities, mostly musicians. The frame with Beyoncé in it has at least seven heart stickers along the edges.

“So, like Heo Hyunjoon, it seems you also have an unhealthy shrine to your idol,” Hyunjae jokes.

Kevin places his backpack on the desk chair and protectively shields the frame in question. “This is _not_ a Beyoncé shrine,” he says, defensive, and Hyunjae doesn’t hide his snicker.

After he drops his bag on the ground Hyunjae walks around some more. He pokes at pages that stick out of binders, drags his finger along black paint streaked on the walls. The color scheme of the room is earthy, olive and navy, the same as Hyunjae remembers when they were young, but the arrangement of the furniture and decorations differs tremendously. Everything now is so well organized, so purposeful. The aesthetics of it all make him want to take a polaroid, even though that’s more of Younghoon’s scene.

“The album shelf is new,” he comments, taking note of the vertically aligned albums at his eye-level. “Oooh, Red Velvet?”

Kevin beams. “Yeah, I really like Wendy. She’s from Canada, like me.”

“ _Peek-a-boo_ ,” Hyunjae sings, probably out of tune, probably offkey, attempting to do the hand choreography along with it.

Shaking his head, Kevin reaches out to Hyunjae and chides, “Use your _other_ hand.” After fixing it, he grins proudly. “There! You can totally pass as a ReVeluv now.”

“A who-what now?”

“ReVeluv! That’s the fandom name,” Kevin laughs. “Red Velvet fans.”

Hyunjae jumps onto Kevin’s bed, humming. “Weird. Sounds like a mouthful.” He rolls his tongue and he tries to pronounce it again, to Kevin’s amusement, but gives up fairly quickly in favor of taking his notepad from his bag.

“The moment we’ve all been waiting for: interview time!” he exclaims, tucking his pen behind his ear. He clears his throat. “You ready for this?”

Kevin settles next to Hyunjae, tucking his feet underneath him. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he says. “Have at it.”

The interview starts off without a hitch.

(“Where did you grow up?”

“Vancouver, Canada!”

“What was the weather like?”

“Cold in the winter, and hot in the summer. I mean, colder in general, if that’s what you mean.”

“And you lived there how long?”

“Until I was nine. We moved back to Korea for my parents. All of our family is here.”

“Describe your hometown in one word.”

“Comfy.”)

Hyunjae records the audio with his phone as he writes down bullet point notes. His notes are mostly describing Kevin’s expression and tone to reference when he writes about it later. Kevin hides his face a lot, embarrassed talking about himself, so Hyunjae continuously taps the other boy’s head with his pen to make him look up. When Kevin meets Hyunjae’s eyes, he can’t help but laugh and get shy anyway.

They shift positions a lot, not intentionally. Hyunjae ends up lying on his side as Kevin is next to him, on his stomach, using a Tsum Tsum pillow to rest his chin. Kevin looks drowsy, and his words are getting softer and slurred as the interview continues.

“Almost done,” Hyunjae promises. It’s been nearly half an hour, longer than any of the other interviews. He blames it on Kevin’s nature to ask questions back and his own nature to amuse Kevin.

(“Do _you_ play any sports?”

“Not on the school or varsity team,” Hyunjae answers. “I play badminton with Haknyeon during the spring. Table tennis in Sunwoo’s basement. That’s all for fun. If the kids are up to it, we play bets.”

“Do you win?”

“I,” Hyunjae begins slowly, “will refrain from commenting.”)

After the last question, which Kevin takes a whole minute to respond to, Hyunjae stops the audio recorder and lets out a deep sigh. He sits up, rolls his wrist, and then ruffles Kevin’s hair. It’s stiff with product, but it flattens down enough to make Kevin look like he’d been blown with a hairdryer.

“Thank you very much for your time, Mr. Moon. The school newspaper is grateful for your participation.”

Kevin blinks his eyes, sleepy, like a newborn koala. “The pleasure was all mine, Mr. Lee.”

“Gosh, take a nap. You look like you’re gonna check out any second,” Hyunjae chides. Kevin makes a soft noise of protest, squeezing his pillow. “I’m not kidding! I’ll wake you up for dinner, and then we can do homework afterwards.”

“Okay.” Kevin nods. “I want to draw,” he mumbles, and Hyunjae pats his head. Expectedly, Kevin falls asleep soon after. His breathing is even, snoring like a camel, but tranquil nonetheless.

Meanwhile, Hyunjae takes residence at Kevin’s desk to page through Kevin’s interview notes. It’s amazing how long they were able to talk, not only on for Hyunjae’s article, but for... everything. Kevin loves to talk and Hyunjae knows he enjoys listening to it. That seems backwards, compared to when they were kids, but Hyunjae doesn’t hate it. He looks back at Kevin’s sleeping figure, covers him with a blanket, and smiles.

On a Tuesday night, after a lovely dinner, Kevin’s elbow brushing against his as the younger boy sketches a lighthouse, Hyunjae has a pencil-dropping epiphany.

“You okay?” asks Kevin, handing Hyunjae back his pencil. He has a curious expression on his face, almost confused but mostly imploring. Hyunjae digs his nails into his palms and nods, one too many times, laughing away the nerves. He returns to his physics homework, Kevin’s stare lingering for a moment before he shrugs.

As the night progresses, Hyunjae drops his pencil six more times and can’t stop his mind from going haywire, because, as it turns out, he must’ve been in love for a very, very long time.

——

Hyunjae’s relationship history is basically a failing grade. From his very little experience, he’s stuck in the _D_ s and _C_ s range. That metaphor doesn’t fit, the more he dwells on it, but Hyunjae is committed.

Back in freshman year, Hyunjae had his first relationship. Her name was Suyeon, and she was in the same grade as him. They hadn’t talked much beforehand, but Hyunjae liked the way she spoke and how she was so put together. He had asked her out, a simple confession with a rose, scared out of his wits whether she’d say _yes_ or _no_. Fortunately, she said _yes_ and they were in a relationship for almost a year.

The breakup was, unfortunately, in no way mutual. Hyunjae really liked Suyeon, but it turned out she was cheating on him with some senior from the baseball team. He liked to believe she genuinely liked him for _at least_ a full hour of her time instead of her only stringing him along because aforementioned senior was busy training up in Gangnam. Sunwoo, ever the realist, said it was definitely the latter. Hyunjae was glad the younger boy had the sense not to rub it in when that turned out to be true.

Relationship score: 15 out of 100. Could’ve been worse.

After taking a couple months to recuperate, Hyunjae got back on the saddle in the form of shy boy turned heartthrob Kim Younghoon.

In hindsight, it was an excellent learning experience for the both of them. That was about half a year into their friendship, when they’d met through mutual friends (read: Sangyeon, who knows everyone). After Hyunjae’s first failed relationship, they skirted around the idea of dating one another to see what it was like — to date a friend, to date a guy, to date “the right way.” (Younghoon’s first girlfriend was a stalker. He doesn’t like to go there.)

All in all, it was a good time. Younghoon is dependent by nature; Hyunjae likes having to dote on someone. They fit into each other’s spaces. A simple high school romance: they walked to classes together, studied together, went on weekend dates and split the tab. The honeymoon phase was all peaches and cream. Hyunjae thought it was going well.

In the end Younghoon broke it off, four months later, wanting to stay as friends for Hyunjae’s sake.

“I don’t know why,” Younghoon had said, “but it feels like you’re looking in the wrong direction.” And then it was okay, sort of, because Younghoon bought Hyunjae a McCafé and they’re still great friends.

Relationship score: 75 out of 100. Not bad, but could’ve been better.

Younghoon’s parting words got him thinking. He couldn’t really decode the meaning, nor could Younghoon find any other way to explain it, so Hyunjae was left in the dark to figure it out on his own. Except, well, he couldn’t comprehend it. It was like romance wasn’t meant for him! Frustrated, that was enough for him to take a break from dating and focus on more important things, like writing for the school newspaper and accumulating chicken delivery coupons. He’d had enough of trying to give out his heart.

The dilemma at hand, now, has to do with this guy named Moon Hyungseo, also known as Kevin, vice president of the student council, possibly the love of Hyunjae’s life.

No big deal.

Loads of Hyunjae’s peers have or had fallen victim to Kevin’s charm at one point or another. He’s handsome, smart, charming, talented, and any other positive qualities you can enter in a professionally proofed dating profile. How could you _not_ fall for him?

A few months ago, Hyunjae had outlined an article regarding this very phenomenon entitled, _Head Over Heels & Over the Moon! _ He had been brainstorming in the dreary hours of dawn, not quite sure where his mind headed, but it led him there. Talented, charming, smart, handsome... The draft was scrapped not long after its birth, due to a lack of credible sources and an aching feeling in his gut that Hyunjae associated with indigestion.

Indigestion which, _as it turns out_ , may share similar symptoms with being in love.

Love? _Love?_

That’s terrifying! Can’t it be considered mere infatuation? A physical, skin-deep attraction. A crush, to put in layman’s terms. Something that Hyunjae can get over if Kevin just shaved off all his hair or grew a mustache. Can’t that be all there is to it?

No, that can’t be. He can’t fool himself. He knows it goes deeper. He knows it’s stronger than that. He knows that these repressed, unaddressed feelings have been brewing for ages, when they were just bite-sized kids, wanting to find friendship, Hyunjae falling for more.

Kevin evolved into a not quite friend, growing up without him, widening the gap between them. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, sure, but Hyunjae didn’t ask for _fond_ in the first place. He hasn’t prepared himself to crash like this. To watch the world burn as he finds he can’t be enough for the boy who’s got everything.

Life is a funny thing, isn’t it?

Hyunjae has been the satellite this whole time, floating aimlessly in space, growing up without the moon to orbit.

——

“MY SO-CALLED BEST FRIEND—” Hyunjae throws a crumpled paper ball at Juyeon’s head, “—CAN’T EVEN BE PRESENT FOR MY MELTDOWN. MY _BEST FRIEND._ ”

Juyeon says, shrugging his backpack near Hyunjae’s closet, “I had basketball practice.”

“THE _NERVE_ —”

“Lighten up, Hyunjae. You have, like, a meltdown every two months. Bimonthly meltdown.”

Hyunjae makes a gurgling noise, too distressed to be a groan but too guttural to be a whine. “I AM... TOO ANGRY TO MAKE A SEXUALITY JOKE.” (He drums his hands on his thighs and makes a crash cymbal noise anyway.)

Juyeon snorts, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He waits for Hyunjae to stop screaming into the floor, where his best friend is curled into an armadillo-like ball, before asking, “Feel any better?”

Hyunjae grumbles, “No.”

“Tell me about it,” Juyeon says, so Hyunjae does.

He doesn’t start at the beginning, but he starts at the most recent events. It’s a long-winded rant about Kevin and his smile, Kevin and his fluffy hair, Kevin this, Kevin that, blah blah blah. Hyunjae also adds in a word about his moment of self-discovery and immediate urge to find the receipt for feelings and return it. What it eventually comes down to is Hyunjae rambling on about rhetorical questions (“What could he even see in me? _I_ don’t even like me.”) and hypothetical scenarios (“Imagine me, _me_ , ME, confessing to him, HA. With a box of chocolates. A bouquet of tulips. I could serenade him. He loves Ed Sheeran. I... _could not_.”).

Once Hyunjae has said his whole spiel, Juyeon steps on Hyunjae’s thigh, hard, eliciting a squawk in response.

“Did that hurt?”

“Ow! What the heck— _Yes_ , that _hurt_ , Jesus Christ, that’s gonna bruise!” It won’t bruise, but Hyunjae is Dramatic.

“You’re allowed to feel things, Hyunjae. Good or bad. You’re human.” Hyunjae purses his lips. “Ultimately, it’s up to you whether you want to do something about it,” Juyeon goes on. “I’m not going to tell you how to live your life. I can’t give you advice in good conscience for that. Just know that I’m right here if you need me.”

Hyunjae takes a minute to himself before responding. “What about basketball?” he asks, quiet.

“You’ll come before basketball,” Juyeon assures. “I should be there for my best friend. I’m sorry I wasn’t earlier.”

“I humbly accept your apology.” Hyunjae sighs, scratching at an old stain on the ground. “I’m screwed, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, you sure are. Now, get off the floor. I think I saw a spider.”

“EXCUSE ME, YOU _WHAT_ —”

——

The plan of action: don’t do anything about the repressed feelings for Kevin. Hyunjae can’t have meltdowns when he doesn’t think about his love ( _urk_ ) for Kevin. Out of sight, out of mind. The problem, though, Kevin is _always_ on Hyunjae’s mind. And it doesn’t help that Kevin finds him the second Hyunjae thinks he’s gotten used to Kevin _not_ being around.

“Hey! Don’t leave yet!”

Hyunjae stops at the gate as Kevin runs over to him. He feels his heart rate speed up, the offbeat rhythm in his ears. His hands are getting clammy, and he puts on his most normal Hyunjae Face for Kevin.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Kevin says, panting heavily as he catches his breath.

“Whatever Sunwoo is blaming on me, I didn’t do it.” Hyunjae pauses. “Wait, am I in trouble? If I’m not in trouble, I did it and would gladly do it again.”

“You’re not in trouble,” Kevin says, “but now you have me worried for Sunwoo.”

“Shh. Shhh. It’s nothing.” If Sunwoo happens to open his locker and find a severed bloody hand prop from Halloween and a scream-triggered camera, Hyunjae may or may not claim credit. For all he knows it could be Chanhee’s fault, who relishes in pranks to a near sadistic level of enjoyment. “Why’re you looking for me?”

Kevin beams. “I got you a gift.”

Puzzled, Hyunjae says, “My birthday was in September. Christmas is in a couple weeks. You’re either fashionably late or mildly early.” He raises an eyebrow, skeptical. “What’s the occasion? Are you, perchance, trying to bribe me?”

“How could I bribe you when you have nothing to offer me?” Kevin snickers, seeing Hyunjae’s flabbergasted expression. “Kidding! No, but really. I saw it in the store and thought of you.”

“Thought of me?” Flustered, feeling his heart skip a few beats, Hyunjae hides his reaction by remarking, “Sweet boy, charming the pants off me, huh?”

Kevin smiles, ducking his head as he reaches into his backpack. “I didn’t wrap it or anything,” he says. “That would be a little extra.” He hands Hyunjae the gift. “Happy belated birthday and/or early Christmas, hyung.”

“You got me... a dictionary,” Hyunjae says. The cover is forest green with gold lettering.

“An English to Korean dictionary!” Kevin elaborates excitedly. “When you have trouble translating your interview responses, you can just flip through the pages to find your answer. Or whenever you wanna use it. Neat, right?”

“Google Translate exists for a reason.” Hyunjae turns the book over, sifting through the pages. “Dictionaries are for dinosaurs.”

“Just admit that you like it,” Kevin whines, still buzzing with excitement.

Hyunjae takes one look at Kevin, whose eyes are sparkling and grin is bright, and lets a stuttered, “I like it.” He bites his bottom lip.

“Awesome!” Kevin exclaims. “Are you gonna use it? I can help you! You can come over and—”

“I can’t accept this.”

Kevin frowns. “You just said you liked it,” he says, bewildered.

Hyunjae looks up. He blurts, “I’m not your friend,” because he’s awful and wants to save face — save himself from rejection.

Clearly, Kevin is shocked. He flaps his mouth open and closed, fumbling for words to say, and manages, “I-I don’t understand. I... thought we were friends.” He laughs, but it hurts Hyunjae to hear him force it. It probably hurts Kevin more.

“We can’t be friends,” Hyunjae goes on, unable to stop. He shakes his head, pushing the book back into Kevin’s hands. “I can’t explain it. Not now, but.” He can’t look Kevin in the eyes, too afraid to face the consequences. “I’m sorry, Kevin.”

And Hyunjae runs.

——

“He’s mad,” Sangyeon declares, sliding into the seat across from Hyunjae at lunch.

Hyunjae stabs his chopsticks into his rice, not bothering to look at the senior. “That’s his problem,” he says.

“No, I said that wrong. He’s _sad_.” Sangyeon is using his authoritative voice, like he’s ready to give Hyunjae the lecture of the century. “Kevin has been feeling down all week. He barely said a word during the council meeting, and he hasn’t been drawing at all.”

“That’s still his problem,” Hyunjae replies, curt. He hasn’t talked to Kevin since running off, ignoring worried messages and calls for days. Kevin has stopped sending them, so Hyunjae assumed the whole ordeal has blown over, meaning Kevin has stopped making an effort to get through to him. Hyunjae hadn’t expected Kevin to stop making an effort for everything else, too.

Sangyeon sighs. “Hyunjae, please. I know something went on with you two.” Hyunjae bristles. “Kevin is really lost. He doesn’t know what he did wrong or how to fix it. He’s mad at _himself_ for not being able to talk to you. Can you act like you care?”

“I _do_ care,” Hyunjae insists, finally bringing his head up. Sangyeon doesn’t look convinced. “I do,” he murmurs weakly.

“Act like it.”

“I care too much,” Hyunjae says, a hollow laugh escaping him. The world isn’t black and white. Nothing is _easy_. A day after he’d come to terms with his feelings, he accidentally shut Kevin out entirely. How can he fix that? That’s not easy. Hyunjae doesn’t make these things easy. “Hell, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him.”

Hyunjae’s eyes enlarge the second the words slip from his mouth. Oops.

“Oh,” Sangyeon says. “That explains a lot.”

“I didn’t say that.” Obviously, Hyunjae did say that, but he can pretend that he didn’t. If he’s convincing enough, maybe Sangyeon can brush that under the rug.

“Hyunjae, you can’t bluff your way out of this one.”

Damn it. “Just watch me,” Hyunjae retorts. He stuffs a piece of kimchi in his mouth. “You don’t know my power.”

Sangyeon squints. “I’m going to tell him.”

Hyunjae chokes, eyes widening again. “Don’t you dare.” He waves around a napkin and huffs, “Unfriended. Blocked. Reported. I don’t even know who you are. Sangyeon who? Don’t know him.”

“Hyunjae, you’re going to have to work this out eventually,” Sangyeon says, completely valid and promptly disregarded.

“Eventually,” Hyunjae repeats, “so not now.”

“That’s unreasonable. You need to ta—”

“Sangyeon hyung!” Jacob interjects, coming to the table. He’s holding a Contigo water bottle, fiddling with the lock. “A few guys want to talk with you about an important thing for some important somebodies. Is that okay?”

It’s fascinating to see the change in Sangyeon’s demeanor when Jacob shows up. He’s all gentle smiles and soft-spoken responses. It makes Hyunjae gag.

“I’ll come,” Sangyeon says, standing. He takes Jacob’s hand and, before he leaves, turns back to Hyunjae. “We’ll continue this conversation later.”

Hyunjae purses his lips, poking at his rice. Jacob waves goodbye with his free hand, unaware of the situation he’d interrupted. Bae Jacob is seriously an angel in disguise; Hyunjae was getting sick of spilling his heart out and being reprimanded anyway.

——

Here’s the thing: Hyunjae procrastinates. He doesn’t do it on purpose — at least, not consciously. He puts things off and into the dusty recesses of his mind for Future Hyunjae to deal with. The bigger the problem, the more he procrastinates. He likes to believe that he doesn’t lose to deadlines, that he gets things done in the nick of time with seconds to spare.

The problem he’s currently procrastinating is the only problem that truly matters in the grand scheme of Hyunjae’s life: his (nonexistent) relationship with Kevin.

Even after talking with Sangyeon, Hyunjae hasn’t made any move to confront Kevin. He defends his behavior with excuses, which are nothing more than flimsy lies with no backbone. He can’t gather the courage.

Hyunjae knows how he feels, but he doesn’t know how Kevin would react to the truth. That’s where he gets cold feet.

Half a week later, undoubtedly fed up with the situation, Hyunjae’s friends intervene.

After the final bell rings Hyunjae gets a message from Chanhee, urging him to come to the west wing of the school. He practically sprints his way there, hopping down the stairs and through the halls. The west wing is dedicated to the fine arts of the school; Hyunjae is moderately familiar with it. Chanhee’s text mentions the auditorium, so he giddily heads there.

He nearly trips on his feet when he sees Kevin, scuffing his heel on the ground, hair missing its usual volume, leaning onto the wall by the water fountain. The curse he lets slip makes Kevin aware of his presence, and they share a uninterrupted moment of locked gazes, Hyunjae’s blood rushing to his face.

“Hi,” Kevin greets, awkwardly waving a hand.

Hyunjae nods, mirroring the same awkwardness. He can’t bring himself to meet eyes again, so he stares at the top button of Kevin’s baby blue button-down. It’s a nice shirt. “Hey,” he says, straightening up. “Good seeing ya.”

Off to a great start.

Kevin thumbs at his phone, smiling nervously. “Did you... also get a weirdly cryptic, emoji-filled text from Changmin that said, _meet me at the fountain next to the auditorium ASAP_?”

“Uh, actually...” Hyunjae doesn’t want to tell Kevin that his text from Chanhee reads, _There’s a box of 10 piece chicken McNuggets hidden under the water fountain in the west wing, BBQ sauce included, up for grabs to whoever finds it._ “Something like that, sure.” (Upon quick inspection of the area, Hyunjae is extremely disappointed.)

“Ah, okay. I see.” Kevin purses his lips.

Hyunjae swallows. This is a golden opportunity. He wants to say something to Kevin. He wants to ask if they’re okay. He wants to tell them why they’re not. He wants to apologize. He wants—

“SNEAK ATTACK!”

Suddenly, there are hands pushing at Hyunjae’s back, shoving him into the storage closet beside the fountain. The door slams, leaving him in near darkness, disoriented. He scrambles for a light switch and, when he finds it, sees Kevin, just as shaken as him.

“What? The hell?” Hyunjae looks around. Nothing but half-stocked shelves with cleaning supplies. There are voices coming from outside, which he can hear better when he steps closer to the door.

“You locked us in a supply closet,” Kevin says, still reeling from shock. “You locked us... in a... supply closet.”

“Yes, we did.” Is that Sangyeon’s voice? That traitor.

Hyunjae bangs his fist on the door. “I will _not_ tolerate this insubordination!”

Then there’s Younghoon, muffled, “What the hell is insubordination?”

“Google it,” Hyunjae snaps.

“So you’re in a supply closet with Kevin. Do you know why?” That’s Changmin. Okay, seriously, how many people are standing outside the door?

Kevin quips, “Haven’t got a clue.”

“Hyunjae? What about you?” Jacob? Well, he’s okay.

“This was a filthy scam! I’m calling the police!” Hyunjae kicks the door and immediately pulls back to nurse his now throbbing toes. He checks his phone and sees that he doesn’t get signal. Awesome. Apparently, neither does Kevin. Double awesome.

“Work things out,” Younghoon says. “You’re both being weird!” Hyunjae is revoking journalism club rights. “We’ll be back in an hour! I mean, _I_ won’t be back, I have a photography session to attend to, but someone will be back to—”

“No one is listening to you, Younghoon.” The world is blessed by Ji Changmin.

Younghoon remarks flippantly, “Sangyeon hyung was!”

“I actually wasn’t.” The world is blessed by Sangyeon as well.

The voices fade, and then there’s silence.

The whir of the ventilation system sounds from inside the closet. Kevin taps his foot on the ground, a steady metronome, whistling under his breath. It’s a way to add more background noise, to take the edge off. Hyunjae is too tense keep standing, so he plops onto the ground, his back against one of the shelves. The closet is dimly lit, but it’s enough for him to make out the outline of Kevin’s figure, a silhouette he really doesn’t deserve to see. He doesn’t have it in him to break the silence between them.

Kevin does.

“Did I do something wrong?” His eyes flit to Hyunjae, and he rakes his hand through his hair. “For you to think we’re not friends.”

There’s a sharp pain in Hyunjae’s chest. A heart attack? No, who’s he kidding? Guilt burns the same way. “You’re amazing. You couldn’t have done anything wrong.” He draws his knees up. “It’s not you, it’s me.” (The line has him cringing.) “This mess is all my fault.”

“ _You_ didn’t do anything wrong,” Kevin counters, “that I know of, at least.”

Hyunjae stares at Kevin, with wonder and amazement he can’t bother to hide. “How can you do that?”

“Do what?”

“See the good in people.”

Kevin laughs. “Years of training.” He sits down near Hyunjae, careful not to get too close. “A very open mind helps, too.” He matches Hyunjae’s posture, laying his chin atop his knees. “You can talk to me, if you want, about what’s happened with you.” He chuckles, dry. “We’re stuck in here indefinitely, after all.”

Hyunjae can’t resist Kevin’s imploring gaze. He lets out a heavy sigh and readies himself for the worst. “That day, that day— I didn’t know how to handle myself, so I took it out on you. I didn’t mean for that to happen, especially like that. What I said wasn’t— I just... worded my words wrong. I wasn’t thinking.” He shoots Kevin an apologetic smile. “I’m not mad at you. At me, yeah, but not at you.”

“That’s a relief.” Kevin gasps, startling Hyunjae, and amends, “I mean! Not that that’s _good_ , but...” He licks his lips, anxious. “I was... scared you got tired of me.”

There it is again. Hyunjae’s heartbeat in his ears, with Kevin’s own heart sewn on his sleeve. Hyunjae wonders how he’s gone so long without this, without Kevin. What’s taken him so long to find him again? What’s stopped him? What’s kept him from falling head over heels for a boy who’s composed of moonshine?

Nothing! Nothing has, and now he’s locked in a supply closet because his friends want to lend a hand for a cause they know squat about. Hyunjae hates how it’s come to this, but he knows he has to try. Kevin is a nice enough guy to let him down easy. Who knows? Maybe they can be friends after this.

“Why aren’t you dating anyone?” Straight to the point, because Hyunjae’s got nothing else to lose. (He’s getting friendly with a damp sponge and soap bubbles, for crying out loud!)

“Pardon?” Kevin is adorable when he’s blushing. That’s just unfair. “I’m not... No, I’m not.”

“ _Moon Kevin: Eligible Bachelor_ ,” recites Hyunjae. “Hobbies: playing piano, singing, calligraphy. Dislikes: Ghosts, team sports, sweating. Likes: sushi, girl groups, Disney movies—”

“Lee Jaehyun.” Kevin’s close enough, now, for his knee to bump into Hyunjae’s. “Surprised, huh? I guess that’s a bit of a turnoff for a dating profile.”

“You— You like me,” Hyunjae says, stunned. “Is that what you mean? You like me?” Okay, Hyunjae hadn’t actually thought this entirely through.

“Guess so.” Kevin laughs, bashful. “I’ve missed you more than I thought, hyung. I missed you a lot.” He shrugs. “Explains why our friends pushed me into the closet with you, ironically.”

Hyunjae holds back a snort. “How long have you liked me?” he asks, trying not to sound too eager.

Kevin looks nervous, most likely anxiety-ridden from Hyunjae’s lack of acknowledgement, but Hyunjae makes sure not to push him away or let it seem like he’s turning him down.

“No idea,” Kevin admits. “Can’t really pinpoint it, but... Being with you again feels—” He makes some strange gestures with his hands, trying to find the right word for it. He lets his hands fall in his lap. “Natural? I like it.” He peeks at Hyunjae. “And I like you.”

“Tuesday,” Hyunjae says. “Two weeks ago.”

Kevin frowns. “What about it?”

“That’s when I realized I’m in love with you.” Hyunjae’s palms get clammy, but he continues, “It’s unreasonable, I know. We used to be so close, then you left me and I realized that being with you, being _close_ to you was different. In a good way! I want to know you again, to be there for you. I want—”

The sun is the center of the galaxy. The earth is rotating on its axis. The moon is in orbit, and the satellite has landed.

Kevin kisses like he’s scared he’ll break Hyunjae, tentative, slow, careful. His hand finds its way to Hyunjae’s, fitting their fingers together. Hyunjae’s heart is too full and he grins, content, pulling Kevin closer.

——

Blinding light floods the closet. Kevin accidentally bites Hyunjae’s lip in surprise, making the elder yelp.

“I hope you haven’t died inhaling all these noxious fumes.” Sunwoo grimaces at the sight: Kevin furiously flattening his hair, springing back from where he was on top of Hyunjae, who leisurely sits up and fixes his collar. “Oh, great, now I need bleach.”

“Third shelf on the left.” Chanhee points, too.

“Don’t ask him why he knows these things,” Changmin says. Chanhee smiles, with faux-innocence that Changmin doesn’t buy one bit. “I take it you guys are all good now?”

Kevin and Hyunjae share a look. “Yeah,” Kevin says, and Hyunjae places a quick kiss on top of their interlaced hands. “You can say that.”

——

“Breaking news!” Hyunjae shouts, throwing open the door. The five heads in the room turn towards him, attention trained on the new arrival. Hyunjae cracks a smirk and leans on the doorframe. “Kevin’s wearing a cute shirt today.”

Chanhee snorts. “Your boyfriend is such a cheeseball,” he snickers, hitting Kevin’s shoulder. Kevin wrinkles his nose and shakes his head, albeit with a small smile.

“Love is truly blind,” Hyunjoon sighs, crossing his arms.

“Get out of here, sophomore. No one asked for your opinion,” Hyunjae grunts. “You’re not even _in_ the student council.”

“And you are?” Hyunjoon counters, eyebrow cocked.

“Touché.”

“Play nice,” Sangyeon warns, “or I’m kicking you both out of this meeting.”

Hyunjoon heads towards the door. “No worries. I have to catch up with Juyeon hyung anyway. I can go over the gymnastics flyers tomorrow with Kevin hyung.” He pats Hyunjae on the shoulder on his way out. “See ya, hyung.”

“Bye, Hyunjoon!” chirps Changmin.

“Good kid,” Hyunjae notes, closing the door. “I like him. He’s got spunk.” He walks over to Kevin’s desk and pulls up a chair. “Almost done?”

“Finishing up a few emails,” Kevin replies cheerily, “then we can go.” Hyunjae hums in affirmation, propping an elbow on the desk and watching Kevin work.

“Hey, Hyunjae,” Chanhee calls, later, while the council is packing up. “I read your article.”

Hyunjae perks up. “Really? How’d you like it?” He slouches when Kevin prods him with his eraser. “Honest opinion, Chanhee. You’re my critic now, not my friend. I can take it.”

“Well...” Chanhee taps his nose, pouting his lips. “I liked it a lot. Really.” Hyunjae hoots.

“It was really interesting!” Changmin exclaims. He pulls the paper from his bag. “What was that line I read earlier... Here! _Cereal-loving senior from Canada takes on Seoul, one spoonful of Fruit Loops at a time._ ” He giggles. “That’s pretty funny.”

“Having Jacob’s interview first was definitely the right thing to do,” Sangyeon declares. “I approve.”

“You don’t have to hype up your boyfriend,” scoffs Hyunjae. “He’s not even here.”

“Can I love my boyfriend when he’s not here? Yes. Yes I can.” Sangyeon wags his finger at the newly formed couple across the room. “You and Kevin should watch and learn.”

Kevin turns to Hyunjae. “Should we?”

“I’ll pass. The article with Kevin’s interview is gonna be good, even without my boasting,” Hyunjae says. Kevin smiles. “Are you ready to go yet? The movie starts at 5:15.” He flops onto the desk. “I’m dying here.”

“lt’s only been two minutes,” Kevin huffs. Hyunjae makes a whining noise, kicking out his feet. Kevin pinches his cheek until Hyunjae stops.

“You should show each other more affection,” Changmin suggests, making the two stop their squabbling. “This doesn’t feel very domestic.”

Shrugging, Kevin proclaims, “We’re a little different, I guess. Good different.”

“We’re figuring things out,” Hyunjae says, smiling, “and trying to make up lost time.”

No one really gets it. Kevin and Hyunjae sort of do.

**Author's Note:**

>   
>   
>   
>   
>  thank u for coming to my TEDTalk


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